Benhil's knife found the throat of an Asura that materialized too close, the blade sliding between armor plates with the skill of someone who'd spent years learning exactly where to strike. Dark ichor sprayed across his face as he twisted the blade, severing everything that mattered. He rolled away as the creature fell, already looking for his next target.

  Olus, despite his age, moved with surprising speed and accuracy. His pistols barked in alternating rhythm. Both shots found their mark in a single Asura's center mass, the impacts spinning it around before it collapsed.

  Gant had launched himself at one of Max's marked positions before the shimmer even began, timing his attack based on pure instinct. The Asura appeared just in time to catch the alien's claws with its throat, Gant's natural weapons severing arteries and windpipe in a single swipe. It tried to phase out, but the damage was already done.

  In less than five seconds, six more Asura warriors lay dead or dying on the lab floor.

  "Well," Bastion said, "we should have come here sooner. This is much more efficient than running around the station playing hide and seek with invisible murder machines."

  Hayden reloaded with practiced efficiency. The cut on his chest had stopped bleeding, his enhanced healing sealing the wound from the inside out, though the torn armor served as a reminder of how close the attack had been.

  "Max, stay here," Hayden ordered, sliding the revolvers back into their holsters. "Help with the portal problem. Use your sensors to protect the group."

  "Affirmation." Max tilted his head slightly. “Question. What about you, Sheriff?”

  “I need to go help Abbey,” he replied. “Keesha, can your Shard Intellect meet me en route?"

  "Already dispatching it,” she confirmed.

  “Thank you kindly.”

  "I'm not letting you have all the fun," Gant said, moving to join him. "She may not be my Queenie, but she's still a Queenie."

  "The rest of you stay here," Hayden said, moving toward the door. "Protect the scientists. You need to get that portal closed or none of this matters."

  "Affirmation," Max replied, limping toward the gathered terminals. "Assistance. Allow me to review."

  "Be careful, Hayden," Natalia called out, finally looking up from her terminal. Her face was pale with exhaustion and worry.

  "Always am," he replied, though they both knew it was a lie.

  He and Gant burst from the lab at a full run, leaving the others to their desperate work. Behind them, Max's voice echoed through the closing doors: "Alert! New phase signatures detected. Pattern suggests coordinated assault incoming. Hahahaha. Hahaha. Haha."

  CHAPTER 4

  Caleb stood on Wild Card's bridge, his chest tight as he stared at the two stations on the viewscreen. The Asura were multiplying across both structures like a virus spreading through a host. Every passing second gave them more opportunity to seize the QDM on Yidra's station, and if they succeeded, everything they'd fought for would be meaningless.

  "Ham," he said. "Set Wild Card to auto. We're taking a shuttle to Yidra's station."

  Ham's hands froze over his controls. He swiveled slowly in his seat, his face displaying pure disbelief. “You were serious about us going over there? Cap, no offense, but have you lost your mind? How the hell are we supposed to fight these things? Our weapons pass right through them. It's like trying to shoot smoke."

  "I don't know," Caleb admitted, already moving toward the bridge exit. "But I'll be damned if I sit on this ship safe and sound while people are dying out there. Abbey might already…” He trailed off, refusing to jump to conclusions. “You heard Keesha, they're getting slaughtered. Besides, if the enemy gets that QDM, it's game over for all of us."

  “Won’t that close the portal?” Johan said. “Keep more of them from coming through?”

  “And keep us from ever getting to Shub’Nigu or Iagorth, or home ourselves.”

  “What if that means they’re all already through?” Penn suggested. The comment immediately chilled the room. Nobody wanted that to be true.

  Ham stood from his station, shaking his head even as he set the autopilot controls. "This is insane, Cap. It's not brave, it's suicide."

  "Maybe," Caleb paused at the bridge door. “But since when have impossible odds ever stopped us?"

  Ham's mouth twitched into a reluctant smile. "Never. And I hate you for that sometimes."

  "No you don't."

  "No, I don't," Ham agreed. "But I reserve the right to complain about it the entire time, and if we die, I'm going to haunt your ass for eternity."

  "Fair enough." Caleb turned to the others. “Johan, keep an eye on things here, and if you have any ideas that might help our team make these things unable to phase, don’t be shy. The rest of you are with me. Knuckle up and move out."

  Caleb and his team through Wild Card's corridors at a near-run. His mind raced through tactical options, each one worse than the last. How did you fight an enemy that existed partially outside reality? One that could strike from nowhere and vanish before you could respond?

  You're going to get us killed, Ishek projected, the Advocate's mental voice carrying unusual concern.

  Maybe. But if we don't try, we lose our shot at the Ancients.

  There's brave and there's stupid. This leans heavily toward the latter. And your death would be very inconvenient for me.

  We aren’t going to die, Caleb insisted.

  Ishek’s silence was deafening.

  They had been engaged in fleet maneuvers prior to the Asura’s arrival, which had left the team in standard utilities rather than combat armor. Caleb led them first to the armory, where they quickly stripped out of their clothes and into underlays before putting on their newly acquired raylium armor. Lighter and more flexible than CSF armor, while also providing a lot more defensive toughness, it slid over Caleb’s underlay like a second, slightly more bulky skin. He grabbed his helmet, snapping it on before picking out a sidearm, combat knife, a few grenades, and a plasma rifle from the nearby stores. The others did the same.

  “I have to agree with Ham,” Penn said as she finished grabbing her gear. “This is crazy, Cap. We'll be sitting ducks."

  "Not sitting," Caleb corrected. "Moving ducks. Very fast-moving ducks with weapons and bad attitudes."

  Despite the situation, Penn snorted. "That's your plan? Be angry ducks?"

  "You got a better one?"

  "Yeah, stay on the ship where it's safe."

  "That's not a plan, that's hiding. We don’t hide.”

  "Orin is concerned about this course of action," the alien said, his melodious voice carrying undertones Caleb had learned to recognize as worry. "The probability of success seems minimal."

  "Since when has that stopped us?" Ham asked.

  "Since never," Orin admitted. "But Orin would like to point out that pattern may be why we find ourselves in such situations repeatedly. It is true."

  They sprinted from the armory to the hangar, the armor’s synthetic musculature augmenting their speed. Boarding the shuttle quickly, each took their positions with not-quite-calm efficiency. Caleb knew they were scared even without feeling the surge of strength from Ishek’s feeding. He was scared, too. But they would channel that fear into results. He strapped into the co-pilot's seat while the others secured themselves in the passenger compartment. Ham worked the controls, the shuttle lifting off as the bay doors had just started to open.

  Caleb was pushed back in his seat as Ham hit the throttle, sending them rocketing toward the parting metal. Even with his experience, Caleb gritted his teeth against a certain collision, the idea reinforced by the warning tones sounding on the flight deck. Instead, the shuttle scraped through with only inches to spare, shooting out into space.

  “Cutting it close," Caleb said breathlessly, knuckles white on his armrests.

  "You said hurry," Ham replied, pushing the throttle forward. "Besides, that’s for making me come along on this crazy ride.”

  Through the viewport, Yidra's station grew larger with each passing second. Its tentacle-like appendages writhed slowly in the void, while red bioluminescence pulsed through various openings like blood through infected veins, casting everything in hellish light. The surface appeared wet, glistening with some kind of secretion that Caleb didn't want to think about too closely.

  "That thing gets uglier every time I look at it," Ham muttered. "Like someone crossed a squid with a tumor and gave it a spaceship for a heart."

  “The Cheni ships have already docked," Caleb replied, pointing to where the vessels sat near the station. From this angle, it almost looked as though two of the tendrils had impaled the ships, rather than holding them in place. “The Intellects must be unloading right now. Head for that opening there.”

  “You mean the one that looks disturbingly like the gaping maw of a horrific monster?” Ham asked.

  “That’s the one.”

  Ham guided the shuttle toward the hangar entrance. As they passed through, the shuttle's external lights illuminated the horror within. The ceiling was covered in hanging organic matter that pulsed and writhed, dripping viscous fluid that formed puddles on the deck below. The walls seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting with a rhythm that made Caleb's stomach turn. Everything was bathed in that sickly red light that came from the tissue itself rather than any artificial source.

  "I'm going to need a decade of therapy after this," Ham said, carefully avoiding the larger hanging masses as he flew them through the tunnel into the huge hangar bay.

  The shuttle touched down with a wet squelch. Caleb was first down the ramp, rifle raised and ready. "Clear so far," he called back, scanning the shadows.

  The team descended quickly, weapons ready. They'd barely taken three steps onto the hangar deck when shapes exploded from concealment.

  The creatures that attacked hardly seemed fierce enough to be causing so much trouble. They were small and primitive looking—gray-skinned things with oversized hands ending in wicked claws, naked and bow-legged like some evolutionary mistake. They moved with disturbing speed, bounding forward on all fours with an insect-like scuttle before launching themselves at the team with shrieks that sounded like tearing metal.

  Caleb's rifle thumped, the plasma bolt catching the lead creature mid-leap. The energy burned through its chest, leaving a hole the size of a baseball. The creature's momentum carried its corpse past him to crash into the shuttle's hull with a wet smack, leaving a smear of dark ichor on the metal.

  Two more came from the left, moving with animalistic hunger, their claws scraping against the organic deck plating. Penn dropped one with a precise headshot that removed most of its skull. Orin met the other, claw-for-claw, evading the creature’s attack and slashing its throat to leave it writhing on the deck.

  "They aren't phasing," Ham observed, putting three rounds into another creature that tried to circle around their flank, sending it tumbling across the deck in a spray of dark blood.

  “Like trife, maybe?" Penn suggested, sweeping her rifle across the shadows. "Lesser beings that can't phase-shift?"

  “They are phase-shifting,” Caleb replied as more of the creatures appeared out of thin air. “They just aren’t trying to save themselves from being killed.”

  The team formed a defensive formation. The creatures were fast and vicious, but they died like any other flesh and blood enemy. Their rifles fired in short, controlled bursts, dropping target after target.

  The attack was over as quickly as it had begun. The creatures vanished suddenly, leaving behind nearly forty dead, their dark blood mixing with the viscous fluid that seeped from every surface of the station.

  "Well, that was disgusting," Ham said, kicking one of the bodies. "But at least we could kill these."

  "Don't get cocky," Caleb warned, stepping over corpses as he headed for the corridor that would lead deeper into the station. "These were just the appetizer. Move. We need to reach the core before⁠—"

  Reality shimmered directly in front of him.

  An Asura warrior materialized from nothing in the space of a heartbeat. This was completely different from the servants—taller than Caleb, wearing dark segmented armor. Every joint had edges sharp enough to cut, and the blade it carried appeared to be made from crystallized shadow.

  The warrior had materialized mid-swing, its blade already descending toward Caleb's head with lethal intent.

  Pure instinct saved him. He threw himself backward, his boots skidding on the organic deck as he fell. The blade passed through the space where his head had been, so close he heard it whistle through his helmet. He hit the deck hard, his rifle coming up automatically.

  He fired, the plasma bolt leaving the barrel with its characteristic whine. But it passed through empty air. The warrior had already phased out, vanishing as completely as if it had never existed.

  "Contact!" Penn shouted from somewhere to his left.

  Caleb rolled to his feet to see chaos erupting around him. Shimmers appeared throughout the hangar—three, five, eight of them. Warriors materialized for split seconds, blades flashing, before vanishing again. Penn was diving away from one that had appeared at her shoulder, its blade catching her as she moved. The edge dug into her raylium armor but didn’t penetrate, allowing her to escape.

  "This is insane!" Ham shouted as the Asura all vanished, leaving them visibly alone, though likely not alone at all. "We can't fight what we can't see or hit!"

  "We should go back to the ship," Haruka called out, her back pressed against Orin's as they tried to cover all angles. "Cap, we're just targets here!"

  "No," Caleb said firmly, his mind racing. There had to be a way. There was always a way. "We push forward. Stay together, watch each other's backs."

  They advanced into the station proper, tension mounting with every step. Another shimmer appeared ahead. This time, Caleb didn't try to shoot. As the Asura warrior solidified, he reached out with his mind, grasping with the telekinetic abilities that Iagorth's primary moiety provided.

  The invisible force slammed into the warrior the moment it fully materialized, catching it mid-strike. The creature flew backward, hitting the corridor wall with enough force to leave cracks in the organic material. It started to rise, those black eyes showing what might have been surprise, then phased out before Caleb could strike again.

  Well, at least that worked, Ishek commented.

  It can’t phase away from an attack it can’t see coming, Caleb replied.

  Another warrior appeared to their right, blade sweeping toward Haruka. Caleb caught it with his telekinesis, throwing it back into the bulkhead. The warrior immediately phased out, but Caleb thought he saw something like wariness in its posture before it vanished.

  They moved faster now, Caleb using the moiety to deflect attacks as they came. The defense was effective but limited. He couldn’t keep using the moiety forever. Soon enough, each use sent fresh spikes of pain through his head, like someone was driving nails through his temples. His nose began to bleed inside his helmet, the copper taste filling his mouth.

  You're pushing too hard, Ishek warned. The moiety wasn't meant for this kind of sustained use. You'll burn yourself out.

  Then we'd better move faster, Caleb replied, using telekinesis to slam another warrior into the bulkhead before it could complete its attack on Ham. Boost me as much as you can. Help me keep going.

  We’re going to regret it later.

  Just do it!

  Caleb felt the chemicals seep into his bloodstream, immediately helping to allay some of the pain and fatigue of using the moiety. It would buy him more time, but once the boost wore off…

  He didn’t want to think about that right now.

  They rounded a corner and found evidence of the Intellects' passage. One of the synthetic soldiers lay in pieces on the deck, its smooth black form cut apart. White gel—the Intellects' equivalent of blood—pooled beneath the remains, its consistency somewhere between oil and mucus.

  “Damn,” Ham breathed, stepping carefully around the puddle. "They carved it up like a roast."

  More destroyed Intellects appeared as they advanced. Some had been dismembered. Others looked like they'd been torn apart by incredible strength.

  But there were also dead Asura scattered among them.

  "Look at this," Haruka said, crouching beside one of the Intellects. She pointed to a ravaged hole in its chest the size of a dinner plate. The wound went completely through, revealing the deck beneath. “What do you think made a hole like this? Not claws or blades, that’s for sure.”

  Penn examined another Intellect with a similar wound. "Looks almost like it got hit with a missile.”

  "We need to keep moving,” Caleb said. “I can hear fighting ahead."

  The sounds of battle grew louder as they advanced—the distinctive whine of Intellect energy beams, the crash of bodies hitting walls, and something else Caleb couldn't identify, a sound like tearing metal mixed with organic screaming. The corridor ahead flickered with light from energy discharges.

  They emerged inside the station's core chamber, and Caleb's breath caught at the scene.

  The chamber was massive, easily a hundred meters across and half that high. The QDM sat at its center, the crystalline structure twice the height of a person and pulsing with barely contained energy. The containment field around it created a sphere of distorted air, like heat shimmer made solid. Caleb knew the QDM pulled energy from another dimension. Or, he realized suddenly, perhaps from the space between dimensions. Maybe that was why the Asura wanted it so badly.

  Around the chamber, at least two hundred Intellects were engaged in desperate combat with half their number of Asura. The Intellects moved with mechanical precision, their arms transformed into energy weapons that fired continuous beams at any Asura that materialized. The beams were perfectly aimed, sweeping through predetermined firing patterns designed to catch phase-shifting enemies.

  Occasionally they got lucky. A beam would catch an Asura as it solidified, burning through armor and flesh before the creature could phase out again. But more often, the warriors vanished before taking damage, reappearing behind or beside their attackers to deliver killing blows. Intellect after Intellect fell, carved apart by those blades.